Where's My Hat?
by gingerroot15
Summary: Cami can't find her hat; obviously, Sherlock is blamed. Based off a forum roleplay, set 100 years in the future. One-shot. I also should mention that Sherlock is x.The.Oncoming.Storm.x's, and Ethan is stay.traught.suckas's.


Something was off with her fedora, so Cami reached a hand up to fix it. Except that where the brim usually was, there was nothing. She frowned and attempted to look at the hat, and failed. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, she patted her head and felt only hair. She turned in annoyance to the boy sitting behind her. "Sherlock, where's my hat?"

Sherlock glanced up from his sketchpad. "On your- oh, you're not wearing it. That's cool." He went right back to drawing.

"Sherlock," Cami snapped her fingers in front of his face, which startled him into looking up at her. "Did you take my hat?"

"No," he replied patiently. "I've been drawing this whole time. Do you want help looking for it?"

Cami blinked. "Yeah, actually. That would be great."

In a shadowy corner of the near-empty pavilion, Anisa snickered and triumphantly handed the hat to Ethan. "You saw that, right?" She laughed quietly.

Ethan nodded eagerly and took a look at the fedora. "Feather-fingers strikes again," he joked as he placed the hat on his head.

The daughter of Hermes stifled an unladylike snort. "Come on, Ethan. Leave before they catch you."

Cami and Sherlock had been searching when the heard voices. Sherlock paused and held a finger up, signaling to be quiet. The voices were coming from the corner.

"Ethan," Sherlock said coolly as they started towards the dark corner. "Give Cami back her hat."

Ethan stepped out of the shadows, arms held wide. "What hat?" The fedora was nowhere on him. "Oh, that hat?" He pointed to Sherlock, whose head now bore Cami's fedora. "Do I still need to give it back?" He smiled innocently.

Cami snatched the black hat and shoved it onto her head. "Nope," she smirked confidently.

"Where's Anisa?" Sherlock glanced around the room.

"She bailed on me," Ethan sighed. "Said something about wanting to warm up for archery."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Anisa. We're not mad."

"I never said that," Cami muttered mutinously.

A girl not much taller than Cami strode around Ethan, a mane of red hair pulled back in a bandana. "Geez, Sherlock, how'd you know?" She laughed.

Cami immediately felt a burst of energy. Something about that girl made her feel happier, bubblier, less able to concentrate on anything. It was a feeling she loved, but hated at the same time. This wasn't _her_; it was something completely out of character.

"I have my ways," Sherlock replied mysteriously, though he was smiling now. "Come on, Cami."

Cami forced herself away from the optimistic energy of Anisa, out to a nearby path. It took a good five minutes before she could stop giggling, and another ten before she was totally free of the high. "Who _are_ those two?" She demanded, totally freaked out.

"The boy is Ethan Stoll. He's a son of Poseidon, legacy of Hermes." Sherlock explained. "He's definitely been influenced by the Hermes part of him. The girl is Anisa Bloom. Daughter of Hermes, probably the most sunshiny person you'll ever meet. Don't worry; everyone gets a little… high… around her. The more you hang out around her, the less it affects you."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one," Cami muttered. "How come Ethan doesn't seem so… high, as you so nicely put it?"

"He hangs out with her a lot. There's a little joke we have going: you're not truly a camper unless those two have pranked you. Seriously, they've gotten everybody. Chiron included. Anisa is the one who stole your hat, you know? Her lesser-known nickname is Feather-fingers for a reason. If she steals it, you don't know it's gone until you need it."

"You're freaking me out," Cami complained. "She's not evil, right?"

Sherlock smiled and shook his head no. "She's surprisingly in-check with the klepto for a Hermes kid. 'Course, she also tends to randomly change the subject on you."

"Oh, okay," Cami shrugged. "What do you mean, change the subject?"

Sherlock smiled drily. "Well, one time I was talking with her about which was better on toast, butter or cream cheese. She just got this really blank look then started asking me what my favorite flower was."

Cami shuddered. "Butter, any day."

Sherlock looked puzzled, "What?"

"Butter is better on toast," she explained. "I hate cream cheese with a burning passion."

"Is that so?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Yeah, it is." Cami grinned.


End file.
